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This weekend I am due to take a long-haul flight. Incredibly, the first
question most acquaintances have asked is not “Where are you going?” but
“Are you flying Club Class?” When I reply “No — because even if I had a
spare £10K to upgrade my family I wouldn’t waste it on a bowl of warm nuts
and access to a toilet with a single carnation in it”, their faces contort
in horror. “But you CAN’T fly goat, it’s disgusting,” they cry. “You’re a
journalist — blag an upgrade.”

Ah, blagging the upgrade — the 21st-century obsession. Or to use another term:
middle-class